


Some Nights

by ardentaislinn



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Neighbours AU, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3442331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ardentaislinn/pseuds/ardentaislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU in which Peggy is caught by her new neighbour Daniel doing something she shouldn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Nights

The new guy was parked in her space again.

She didn’t know anything about him, except the vague outline she has seen of him on the odd occasion she caught him pulling into - and out of - her space. By the time she got down the apartment stairs to reach him, (or found a park down the street) he’d always disappeared.

But she did know that he always parked in her spot.

It was the prime position right outside the front. Everyone in the building knew that it was _hers_. And if she was honest, they were all too afraid of her to say anything different. She didn’t mean to be scary, but she did carry very visible weapons around with her constantly at all hours of the day and night, so Peggy assumed that had something to do with it.

The new guy apparently hadn’t got the memo.

Now, it was 3am and Peggy had had enough. She was sitting in her car, her headlights illuminating her parking space; which was, of course, already occupied. She pulled in a few spaces behind it and considered her options. The one or two celebratory wines she had drunk earlier at the bar with her colleagues had clearly gone to her head, because suddenly she was out of the car and stalking towards his vehicle.

It wasn’t a particularly nice car, but it seemed functional and nicely maintained. There were no rust spots that she could see, which got her considering the paint. This, in turn, made Peggy consider how unfortunate it would be if that paint was damaged. And if, further to that, whether it would make the man who drove said car park elsewhere.

Her keys were in her hand resting against the door of the car before she even knew what she was doing. She pulled her hand away immediately, shocked at herself. Then, after a second of deliberation, she slowly moved her hand towards the car, wondering if it was the adrenaline that was making her arm shake and the keys rattle in her hand.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” said a male voice from behind her. Peggy jumped about a foot in the air, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest.

She turned slowly, dread pooling in her stomach and excuses flying to her lips. But all that drained out of her at the sight before her. A man - a man Peggy couldn’t help but notice was very handsome - was standing before her, lit by the headlights of her car. His hair stuck up at all angles, and he was squinting at her, gaze hindered by the bright lights. His chest was deliciously bare, and though Peggy didn’t dare drop her gaze too low, she suspected he was only wearing thin cotton boxers.

He was also pointing a gun in her direction.

“I think there may have been a bit of a misunderstanding,” Peggy began, not letting her eyes stray from the deadly weapon.

The man scoffed. “You were about to key my car.”

“Right,” said Peggy, frustratingly aware she wouldn’t be able to talk her way out of this. “Shit,” she added, as her mind restrategised.

“Yeah,” the man agreed. “It is a bit shit for you.” Strangely, he seemed more amused than angry at the situation. Peggy sighed.

“You’re not going to shoot me,” she told him confidently.

“What makes you say that?” he asked curiously.

“You’re too calm. If you were going to do it you would have done it immediately when the anger would have been strongest. You aren’t about to shoot me in cold blood.”

The man shrugged in acquiescence and lowered the gun. “You know people,” he stated.

“It’s my job,” she told him.

“Mine, too,” he replied.

Peggy realised she was starting to like this guy, so she brought the conversation back to the issue at hand.

“You’ve been parking in my spot,” she informed him.

The man raised an eyebrow in response. “ _Your_ spot?”

“Everyone knows this is my spot.”

“Even though there are no assigned parking spaces on this street?”

“Exactly.”

“You’d make a disabled man walk all the way down the street just so you could have your spot?” he asked, his voice suspiciously light. She sensed an edge beneath the words.

“You’re not-,” she began. Then, “Oh,” as realised that he was, in fact, disabled. The hand that was not holding the gun was wrapped around a crutch that had been partially obscured by the shadows thrown by her car’s headlights. The crutch was clearly there to support him, since the fact that he _was_ wearing boxers (she had been right) made it quite obvious that he was missing his right leg from just above the knee.

She was silent for a long moment, contemplating her recent life choices. She slowly raised her gaze to his, to find him watching her intently.

“Iraq?” she asked. She’d seen those wounds before first hand.

He gave a sharp nod in return. “I usually wear my prosthetic, but I wanted to get out here before any damage was done.”

Peggy felt her cheeks heat with shame. “I’m truly sorry. It was abysmal of me to even consider it.”

He gave her an intense look, apparently considering her words.

“Yeah, it was,” he said after a moment. “But I forgive you.”

She smiled happily, and he grinned back, their eyes catching.

“Right, well, I best go. I have to be at work in about three hours,” she told him.

“Yeah, I start my new job tomorrow,” he replied. “Better try to get some rest.”

They began moving back to the apartment building, Peggy adjusting for his slightly slower pace. She turned her car lights off as she went.

“What’s your new job?” she asked curiously.

“I’m a police psychologist. I’m transferring here from upstate.”

Peggy felt her blood slow as it pumped through her veins. “Which precinct?” she asked carefully.

“The 73rd,” he replied. “Why?”

Peggy cleared her throat. “I’m a detective there,” she informed him.

His grin was quick and genuine. “No shit?”

She laughed lightly. “No shit.”

They reached the elevator, and something clicked for Peggy. “That’s why I kept missing you. I was taking the stairs down, and you took the lift.”

“You were looking for me?” The man asked with a confused smile.

“Only to complain about you being in my space,” she teased.

He laughed. “I did knock on your door a few times when someone kindly pointed out that I was using your space. I wanted to make sure it was cool. But you never seemed to be there.”

“I don’t really keep regular hours and I’m out more than I’m home. It’s no surprise you missed me.”

“I imagine my life will be pretty similar as of tomorrow.”

“You’ve got no idea,” Peggy told him. Their eyes caught and held for a moment and Peggy felt an odd flutter in her chest.

The elevator dinged, and Peggy made to step out. She turned once she was in the hall just in time to see him dive forward to hold the doors. “Wait,” he said. “I’m Daniel.” He held out his hand and Peggy took it, gratified to find he had a firm, warm handshake.

“Peggy,” she told him.

“I know,” he said, then glanced down, looking bashful. “I mean, I was told.”

“When they warned you off my packing space?” Peggy asked drily.

Daniel nodded.

“Well, at least you know I’m not as formidable as people seem to think, right?” she half joked.

Daniel stepped back into the elevator, allowing the doors to close. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” he murmured with a smile as the doors sealed between them.

Peggy felt strangely flattered as she made her way back to her apartment. Tomorrow would no doubt prove to be _very_ interesting.


End file.
